Remember when you were born?
No you don't. Nobody does.
Some might recall year two or three.
Yet, death is a lot like birth, we think.
Except, everybody remembers growing up.
Nobody knows about after death.
Oh yes, there are tunnel and light stories
and out of body experiences
but there are psychologists too explaining.
Of course, this is the top mystery ever.
Even Houdini, who promised a return
never got back.
Everyone who passes the Bardo is silent.
Every human, all one hundred and ten billion
who've ever lived, have been intrigued.
Sure, there are tons of religious theories,
and seven billion alive today wondering.
Maybe there's one person who knows...
the Dalai Lama was asked and said,
"It's like changing clothes".
Now, this is something to think about.
Topic(s) of this poem: death
Form: Free Verse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.